This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

Why exactly is it such a big deal to be invited to the White House?
If you’ve gotten on the wrong bus, nothing changes until you get off
Proposals to skip rent payments are rooted in magical thinking
Next, this city is going to be selling lemonade and holding bake sales
For some of us, loss of trust is a deep existential threat to heart
AUDIO: We rarely realize we’re wasting our lives ’til it’s too late
Lesson from U2: Rejection doesn’t necessarily mean it’s time to give up
What are your options when the state gives your children lousy teachers?